My Twenty-Something Quasi-Soap

Die, you scumbag, die. Die.Die.Die.Die.Die.Die.Die.Die.Die. I hate you and you will get your comeuppance one day. Yes, your uppance will come. You try digging through all these dusty old file and try to find pointless information and then be told that you didn't record enough stuff down and you have to go back through the files. Now. And by the way, you have to finish the f-ing write ups too. Now. I soooo should just leave effective this Thursday, but I need the money. I hope you get what you deserve, you moronic excuse for a VP. Grrrrrrr. Now I feel a little bit better.

If I wasn't already leaving this stupid job, I would quit. Today. I hate my boss and I want to punch him in the face and throw a knee to his balls. But he doesn't have any. He's a spineless bastard and I hate him and I can't wait until I leave here and I hope we don't find someone else to take over the position so he'll end up curled up under his desk in the fetal position crying because he doesn't know what to do with himself and his head's about to explode and that's what he deserves because karma's a fucking bitch. Making me try to write these stupid write ups about sites that I know nothing about, then flipping the script and telling me to fill out a different form after I've been spending all this time on these f-ing write ups (in between reading the news and other stuff) just pisses me off because I have wasted my time on stupid crap. ::deep breath:: I feel better now. I just needed to vent.

It's a little too warm in my room. It's also almost too quiet, but I don't want to turn on the AC because it would be too loud. I came home to a house with almost all the f-ing lights on, and I was mad. Then I realized that there's no point in lecturing...I'm leaving here in a few days. So now I'm just waiting for my brain to slow down and be quiet...which it never will be, but I need it to be. My stomach was all messed up last week. It was fine this weekend, now it's all messed up again. I think I know why. I don't want to admit it, but I know why. But I could be wrong. My half empty room is still a disaster and it has to be cleared out by Thursday night. But when I got home every night last week...I was too exhausted to do anything. My brain won't slow down and my stomach won't settle...and it's too damn quiet in here. I'll just take a deep breath and try to find something to calm me down.

Ok, time for the reveal of the big mystery from the last blog: I'm moving to Florida. Yes. Florida. It's a long story. Something that I was going to explain now. But my stomach is messed up and I am tired and slightly cranky, and typing in a position that will give me carpal tunnel. But I had to break the news. More when I have time...too busy packing and all that jazz. Peace out.

Earlier this year I said that 2007 was gonna be a big year. Later I said that it was going to be big, but I didn't realize how big it was going to get. Now it's freakishly huge. But I can't announce it to the Blogosphere yet. There's people who I still have to call and stuff because I know they'd be pissed if they heard it from my blog as opposed to hearing it from me directly. Yes, I know that you want to hear the good news, and you're always waiting with baited breath for a new post from me and that you'll just die if you don't find out what's going on. ("I'll just die if I don't get this recipe." Saw the original Stepford Wives movie last night. It was a lot lamer than I expected it to be. Why do movies from the 70's suck until the very end?) Ok, so I'm totally overestimating your interest in my random bitchings and what not. But I can't say anything yet. I want to, but I can't yet. Ooooooohhhh, I'm so excited...

The beginning of the end has arrived here at my job. My boss (and everyone else here) finally got what they wanted, and they went and fired our director of construction. This morning. As opposed to Friday. Bastards. He's a good guy, the now former director of construction. He knows how to get stores built, how to deal with the people that were actually doing the construction, and when to bust some balls and get the job done. He's a realist - a pragmatist. He has a great sense of humor. But mostly, he's the right guy for the job. Unfortunately, every decision he's ever made has been scrutinized and challenged and criticized by people who don't have a fucking clue about the work that he does. He is not a "yes man," bowing and scraping to the powers that be. If something ain't gonna work, he'll tell you in no uncertain terms that it ain't gonna work. And because my boss is a spineless sniveling ignorant piece of crap who looks dumber and dumber ev...